Don't Make It Weird
by inu382
Summary: Lucius Malfoy dies, leaving Draco his inheritance...on one condition. Trust Lucius to be an obstinate ass, even in death. DM/HG, SS/HP
1. The Inheritance

…Haaaah. In the end, I couldn't resist. I wanted to have some fun before I finish the _Bromance_ series.

Warnings: Cursing, guy love, a little OoCness, unbelievableness, and frequent sarcasm.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Draco Malfoy sat primly in the chair before the lawyer; after 22 years, the man had finally grown into his angular and sharp face. His blond hair was kept short and neat, his bangs only occasionally straying into his eyes. As most modern wizards did, Draco found himself leaning towards Muggle clothing—today, he wore a black three piece suit. The occasion called for it.

When Narcissa had passed, it was devastating to the Malfoy family. With some help from the Golden Boy, Harry Potter, the Malfoy family was able to stay out of Azkaban relatively untouched. Lucius was sentenced to one year in Azkaban, however; the entire time, Narcissa fretted and her health slowly declined. Lucius was released with just enough time to spend some precious moments with his wife before she passed peacefully. Sunken in a depression of his own, though he put up a brave front for Draco, Lucius followed his wife a year later.

Draco sat through the funeral stoically. On his left sat Harry Potter; in the years following the war, Harry had made it very clear that he and Draco needed to set the example for the houses. Harry believed all the bias and stereotypes surrounding the houses had led to people believing in Voldemort's cause and Harry did not want to have to suffer through another war. Draco, in a show of maturity, agreed. Their final year in Hogwarts was spent creating the friendship Draco had offered eight years ago. Unfortunately, being friends with Harry Potter meant spending time with Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood. Eventually, he learned to be friends with them as well, especially with Luna. As it stood, she currently had the keys to his flat—not that Neville really approved of his girlfriend having unlimited access to another man's home.

With a pat on his hand, Draco was brought back out of his musing. He looked to his right where, strangely, Hermione Granger sat. She smiled sadly at him, her big brown eyes misty.

"Your turn to speak, Draco," she said quietly.

With a nod, he stood and walked toward the podium with all the hard-earned confidence he had left in him.

And now, he sat in front of his father's lawyer, who was reading his father's will. Said wizard glanced up at the blond, sympathetic.

"Well, son, it seems your father knew how to use _one_ Muggle device," the man said. With an eyebrow raised, Draco watched as the man put in some strange, black box into an even bigger black box with wires coming out of it. The box with glass in it came to life, and his father's face appeared.

"Before you ask, Draco," the Lucius in the glass stated, "It's called a VCR. I wanted to record my last will so that you would always be able to have a small bit of me. I love you very much, son. I'm sorry I almost failed you and turned you into a Death Eater."

Draco felt tears at the corners of his eyes, but did his best to contain them.

"Without your mother, I just didn't see the point in living. I'm sorry I left you, but I hope you understand how, even with you in my life, I needed Narcissa. She was, and is, my everything. To that end, I suppose I should get to the point. Your inheritance."

Draco nodded, though he realized his father couldn't see it.

"You will inherit the entire Malfoy estate—all of the estates—and all of the Malfoy vaults in Gringotts."

Draco's eyes widened. He was getting _everything_? There was basically no reason for him to work anymore! He could quit Hogwarts and finally be free of those damn kids and—!

"However, my time as a Death Eater made me realize that I have raised you with an unfair bias towards Muggles and half-bloods. As such, before you can inherit anything, you have to be married. To at least a half-blood. No pure-bloods. That means break off that relationship with Astoria. I'm pretty sure she's a lesbian anyway."

Draco's smile immediately fell off his face.

"Oh, and you have to do it before you're 24 years old. Cheers, son!" After an enthusiastic wave and a cheerful smile that had no right to be on Lucius' face, the screen went blank.

Draco and the lawyer sat in silence for an entire five minutes.

"_WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK._"

The lawyer shrugged. "Trust Lucius to be an obstinate ass, even in death."

* * *

A few days later, Draco stormed through the halls of Hogwarts, intent on speaking with his godfather. After the war, Severus Snape was absolutely dead. There were no two ways about it. However, in a rare show of powerful and dark magic, Harry's intense emotional trauma triggered something within that unleashed some ancient spell in parseltongue and brought back to life everyone who was important to Harry.

Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Fred Weasley, Sirius Black, etc, etc; they all came back. The only ones who refused were Lily Potter, James Potter, and Albus Dumbledore. Lily and James, Harry realized, were too far gone into the other world. They couldn't come back and start life over again. Dumbledore decided that, even if he came to life, the curse on his hand would still be there. He'd only die again. He preferred to be at peace, knowing the world was saved. And so, Harry accepted that his parents and his mentor would not come back, but was pleased in knowing he had brought back so many others.

Including one Severus Tobias Snape.

People were surprised, to be sure, until Snape's involvement in the war came to light. Though there were the occasional howlers of people who were convinced Snape was still loyal to the dark, most people were impressed by his loyalty and bravery. He was awarded an Order of Merlin and was hailed as a hero.

Not that he liked it.

After Dumbledore's refusal to come back, Severus Snape was once again appointed as Headmaster. With his efficient leadership—and biting witticisms—the school was rebuilt in mere months. Snape invited Harry and the others to come back to school, to finish their seventh year. As both Headmaster and Potions Master, one expected Snape to be more irritable. However, though Severus still had a biting tongue, the show had come to an end. Severus Snape no longer had any masters to answer to and he could finally focus on teaching the next generation, properly.

For the first time since Snape had been teaching in Hogwarts, Gryffindor only had 150 detentions (which was a bit of a milestone, seeing as Harry alone used to get _at least_ 75).

After the seventh years graduated, many were invited to return to Hogwarts as professors. Hermione Granger came back to take over for Flitwick in Charms; Neville Longbottom allowed Professor Sprout to retire; Harry Potter, of course, decided to break the DADA professor curse; and Draco Malfoy became the new Potions Professor. In a show of modernity, Snape asked Luna Lovegood to come back as his assistant, so that he could focus on helping the students. Luna didn't mind. Snape's meticulousness suited her well and she was still able to write for the Quibbler. Along with the new, many old professors remained. As Professor of Transfiguration and Deputy Headmistress, Minerva Mcgonagall remained as steadfastly as ever and, as usual, she constantly kept Snape on his toes. Nowadays, though, their banter was much more playful. Hagrid, of course, stayed with the staff—if only to amuse Snape. Binns continued to bore students to sleep and Trelawney continued to give her students scary predictions. All in all, the head table looked like the world's strangest family.

Draco smiled fondly, remembering how odd they all seemed together; but they worked together well and they _were_ family.

The blond continued walking, but did a double take right as he reached the Headmaster's hall. Draco stopped short at the sight of Harry Freaking Potter on his hands and knees, stealthily looking around the corner to the Headmaster's office. Draco walked up to him and crossed his arms.

"What the hell is this, Boy Wonder?"

Harry jumped, bumping his head on the wall. With a small, less-than-manly groan of pain, the brunet stood up and scowled at his friend. "You couldn't have warned me?"

"I did. So what is this? Why are you…_in position_ in front of my godfather's office?"

Harry blushed, but a wide grin graced his face anyway. He pointed to a small green plant right above and slightly forward of the gargoyle leading to Snape's office. "See that?"

Draco nodded.

"It's a charmed mistletoe. The twins made it for me. Whoever steps under it is forced to remain in place until they're thoroughly snogged by someone. Once Severus walks out, he'll be stuck there and I'll have to save him. I walk over, snog the living daylights out of him, he'll fall in love with me, and we can finally shag!"

Draco shook his head. This was, unfortunately, not the first harebrained scheme of Harry's and was certain not to be the last; since Harry's return to Hogwarts, the Golden Boy had relentlessly pursued Snape. It was no secret among the younger staff that Harry wanted Severus, _bad_. In the year and a half that Harry had been employed there, he'd tried—literally—_three hundred forty five_ of said schemes to get the Headmaster to fall in love with him. Through it all, Snape remained blissfully unaware of all the attention he was receiving—or so it seemed.

Draco wasn't fooled. Severus was a _spy_ for Merlin's sake. Of course he knew; Severus just ignored it. He _had_ to have noticed.

"Shh!" Harry suddenly said, pulling Draco around the corner with him and falling back to his hands and knees. Diligently, Harry watched as the gargoyle turned and Severus Snape walked out, in all his glory. Since his recovery, Snape had taken an interest in hygiene. His once crooked, yellow teeth were more straight and white than a picket fence. Being out of the dungeons had done the Potion Master's sallow skin a world of good; it was now a much healthier alabaster. The potion fumes he used to toil over were no longer aiding the grease in his hair. The black, silky hair was now luxurious and soft, falling in waves around the no-longer-gaunt face. Years of servitude had once formed severe lines in the man's face, but times of peace had eased those lines and Severus easily looked ten years younger. His nose was still as large as ever, but Harry thought it gave Severus character. Having pulled Snape out of the rubble, carried him to St. Mungo's, and personally stood by while the man was treated, Harry glimpsed—and drooled over—the toned muscle that lie under the man's robes.

In short, Severus Snape was damn hot and Harry was staking his claim.

The only thing that marred Snape's perfection were the scars on his neck; Harry liked to think those scars connected them more.

Eagerly, Harry watched Snape step under the mistletoe—Harry almost cheered!—and keep on walking. The Golden Boy's mouth dropped open as Snape walked by them.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter," the Headmaster stated with a nod, not even looking twice at Harry's peculiar position.

"Severus, I need to talk to you," Draco replied. Snape raised a brow at the lack of formalities, but nodded regardless and motioned for the Draco to follow. They walked away, leaving a shell-shocked Harry on the floor.

After a few minutes, Harry came to his senses. He jumped up, screaming in Snape's direction. "_GODDAMIT, SEVERUS SNAPE! GET BACK HERE AND SNOG ME!_" With a huff and a pout, Harry walked over to the mistletoe, intent on seeing why it had failed…only to get stuck.

"Wha…? Damn! Goddamn you, Snape! How do you always get away?!" Harry wailed.

With another pout, Harry resigned himself to waiting until the Headmaster returned. Slowly, his mood began to brighten. Snape had to get into his office, right? That meant he'd have to get past Harry! Which meant he would have to snog Harry in order to get him out of the way! It was nearly as perfect as his first plan!

And then Luna Lovegood walked by.

"Hello, Harry," she said, dreamily. Her long blonde hair fell behind her, reaching the small of her back and her pretty, large eyes stared at Harry unflinchingly. Even though Luna was petite, she was easily one of the few women Harry would've gone straight for. Today, the Ravenclaw wore a bright turquoise dress suit with large, squareish shoulders. She reminded him slightly of Lady Gaga, if a bit shorter and with much more modest heels.

"Hello, Luna," he replied miserably.

"Are you waiting for Severus?"

"Well, yes, in a manner of speaking…"

"Would you mind moving aside? I need to get some work done."

Harry groaned and looked up. Luna followed his gaze.

"Oh, I see. You're trapped. I suppose this was another attempt to get into Severus' trousers, yes?"

Harry meekly nodded.

"And the only way out is…?"

"To be thoroughly snogged."

"Where is the Headmaster?" she asked kindly.

"He went off with Draco. It might take a while. Draco's father just passed away; it's probably about that."

"Oh, my. This work I have to do is rather urgent. I'm sorry, but I need you removed quite soon."

Harry whimpered.

"I suppose someone will have to snog you now."

Harry sighed, resigned to having to kiss Luna.

"Let me go get Neville."

Harry sobbed.

* * *

There's the prologue. I'm going to have fun with this.


	2. It's A B Note

Oh, man, I am having too much fun thinking up this story.

Speaking of, Pottermore is pretty great. Anyone else a Slytherin? :3

* * *

"Where is the Headmaster?" she asked kindly.

"He went off with Draco. It might take a while. Draco's father just passed away; it's probably about that."

"Oh, my. This work I have to do is rather urgent. I'm sorry, but I need you removed quite soon."

Harry whimpered.

"I suppose someone will have to snog you now."

Harry sighed, resigned to having to kiss Luna.

"Let me go get Neville."

Harry sobbed.

* * *

Harry brushed his teeth for the 50th time, grimacing. Spitting one last time, he gazed at himself intently. After years of being awkward and gangly, Harry Potter had finally grown, even if he looked just the tiniest bit effeminate. He'd grown out his impossible hair; now, it simply looked shaggy or like an intentional mess. His cheeks lost their baby fat and his chin was a delicate, rounded point. His green eyes were large as ever, just like his mother's, though they'd recently become a shade lighter. He stepped back, looking at his green oxford shirt and his black slacks. Without looking, he knew of the lean body that lay beneath—there was no way he couldn't memorize it—and his strangely larger-than-most bum. All in all, Harry was glad his body was masculine yet slight.

He sincerely hoped it helped in turning Severus Snape gay.

With a sigh, Harry shut his eyes, leaning against the mirror. The Gryffindor couldn't recall when he'd fallen for Severus, but he could remember the day he knew he was gay. A few months after the war, when he'd approached Ginny again, she admitted to him that she loved him like a brother. She realized that in the tension of the war, they'd been forced together and were expected to love each other; unfortunately, she held nothing but platonic love for him. As Ginny leaned forward and kissed a grateful Harry, the only thought that ran through his head was, _'Ew.'_

Ginny was tall and beautiful. Her smooth, toned legs went for miles; her long, wavy red hair was the epitome of fire and a dead giveaway of her fiery spirit. Her high cheekbones were elegant on her face and her smile was brilliant. Her almond shaped eyes were _made_ to seduce and were, in fact, what Harry first noticed about her. Ginny remained slim, what with her constant Quidditch practice, but her curves were mesmerizing. Any straight man would have been devastated to know that Ginerva Weasley didn't want him.

And so, revelation literally at his lips, Harry pushed Ginny away gently and told her what he thought. With a squeal, Ginny hugged him; not only was her now-best-friend not hurt at her rejection, she could now also dress him up. Uncertain at first, Harry hugged her back. Eventually, he smiled and clutched her tightly. Although it was a happy moment, tears began leaking onto his cheeks and a moisture on his shoulder let him know Ginny was crying, too.

It was the first time that they actually let everything sink in. Since then, Ginny and Harry had been practically inseparable.

Unfortunately, Ginny had joined the Holyhead Harpies and was away at an international game, which meant he couldn't talk to her about his latest Snape-related failure.

A giggle behind him, though, let Harry know he was far from alone. With a smile, Harry turned and faced Hermione Jean Granger.

Like Ginny, Hermione was tall. Her legs, not as toned as Ginny's, were still long and sensual. Her frizzy hair had calmed over the years, framing her face in wavy ringlets of brown. Puberty had graced her; Hermione was slim for a girl with her bust size and waist. Hermione's large brown eyes were literal windows into her soul. Her dentist family, tracked down soon after the war and with their memories partially restored, had helped fix her awkward smile. Harry often told Hermione that, if she ever wanted, she could be a model.

But Hermione, despite how blessed she was by Aphrodite, was still Hermione. Her studies came first and she graduated top of her class. In the last century, the only person to have beaten her was, apparently, Severus Snape.

Harry groaned. Somehow, his thoughts always came back to that man.

Hermione giggled again. "Still have Snape problems?"

"Blimey, Hermione! Everything I've tried fails. Drake's even kept count! I have tried over _three hundred_ times, and I still fail! I don't know what I'm doing wrong…"

Hermione shook her head pulled her forlorn friend out his loo. They sat on his loveseat, Hermione wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders. With a sigh, Harry complied and laid his head on her bosom. It was times like these, Harry realized, that he was happy he was gay. Being surrounded by so many attractive women would surely drive him mad.

"Have you tried talking to him, Harry?" she asked, patting his hair affectionately.

"He's always busy," Harry groused. "Besides, he's not even gay. He was in love with my _mother_, remember?"

Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose…"

"I dunno. I don't even know why Fred and George's mistletoe didn't work."

"You said he walked right under it?"

"Right under!" Harry asserted.

"Well, traps like that generally react to magical signature. He could have been suppressing his…"

Harry pouted. "Of course; his super paranoia always helps him out, doesn't it?"

Smirking, Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of, he _is_ a spy, isn't he?"

Harry nodded.

"Why hasn't he approached you about all this? You'd think he'd grow tired of someone trying to prank him—or so I'd imagine he'd see it—and chase the person down. It's been a year and a half, Harry. Don't you think he would've found you by now and tortured you into telling the truth?"

The man's eyes widened. Why _hadn't_ Severus tracked him down by now?

"I think you should ask Snape to make time for you so that you can talk this out."

Absently, Harry nodded. They sat in silence until, with renewed vigor, Harry sat up and grabbed Hermione's slim shoulders.

"So! Tell me! How is it going with you and Ron?"

At Hermione's immediate sneer, Harry knew things were not well with his best friends.

"We're over. He and I are going to work on our friendship again, but I can't stand dating him anymore. For one, he's not for commitments, clearly; and two, he's taken that awful, dangerous Auror job. We always argue, we don't agree on anything, he expects me to be like his mother and _live_ in the kitchen—I _love _Molly, you must believe me, but I _simply can't_ be anything like her—and he doesn't take any interest in me! For God's sake, I bought a new, super sexy dress and he _walked right by me_."

With a huff, Hermione finished her rant and sat back, armed crossed. Sympathetically, Harry patted her shoulder, then drew her into a hug.

"I love you both, but I think this separation is for the best. I think what happened with me and Ginny happened to you and Ron. We didn't know we'd get out of this alive…we were so desperate for affection…"

Hermione nodded, her head still buried in Harry's shoulder.

"We-We'll be better off like this," she hiccupped quietly.

A knock on the door forced them apart. Sharing one last smile, Harry moved to open the door while Hermione regained face and quickly swept away her tears. She looked toward the door as Harry opened it and smiled as Draco entered as if he owned the quarters.

"Hey, there, 'Mione," he greeted.

"Hey, Draco," she replied, then stood. "Well, I better be off. Research to be done and all that. I'll see you boys at dinner."

Harry held the door for her and stood in the doorway for a bit while he watched her go. As she disappeared around the corner, Harry closed the portrait door and sat across from Draco, who had taken residence on his armchair.

"So, what's up, Drake? How did your meeting with Snape go?"

"Awful," Draco grunted.

* * *

"Excuse me?" Severus asked.

Draco bared his teeth, grinding them together in an effort not to lash out at his only remaining family. "I _said_, father will only give me my inheritance if I marry a half-blood or Muggle."

And, as he did the first four times Draco had told him, Severus burst into loud, uncharacteristic guffaws. The very idea of Draco trying to learn Muggle appliances was amusing enough—he had no doubt that Draco would immediately curse the TV the second his wife changed the channel.

"Okay, okay; I get it. It's _hilarious_. Now, please do something."

Wiping his eyes and still chuckling, Severus shrugged. "I can't _do_ anything, Draco. It is your father's dying wish and, if you want your inheritance, you must comply. If Astoria is worth giving up your inheritance, than stay with her; if not, then leave her and find a better wife. You still have two years, after all."

"One and a half," Draco corrected, "And no…I care about Astoria, but I don't love her. I'd only resent her if I gave up everything father left me for her."

Astoria was beautiful and elegant and one of the few purebloods that did not buy into anything Voldemort said. However, while she was kind, she was also not a match for Draco. They mostly enjoyed snarking at each other moreso than loving each other. It was an easy relationship, but not one of love. Draco knew if he broke it off with Astoria, she would smile and wish him well before she left. Astoria was great like that.

"But I don't know any half-bloods, other than the Boy Wonder. It could take me ages to find a half-blood I liked, then ages to court her. I don't marry unless a year has passed…it seems rushed otherwise."

Severus raised a brow. "Why would Potter even be someone you considered?"

"He's gay," Draco shrugged.

After a moment, Severus regained face. "Regarding your marriage problem…Potter is not the only half-blood you know."

Draco grimaced. "Sorry, Severus, but I'm not into men your age."

Severus slapped him upside the head without changing his expression. With a pout, Draco smoothed his hair back in place. "Not me, you dunderhead. I meant Miss Granger."

* * *

Harry's eyes widened. "_Hermione_? You're thinking of courting _Hermione?_"

Draco squirmed under the brunet's gaze. "She's single, isn't she? That idiot Ron lost her, yeah? What's the problem?"

"The problem is that she _just _got out of a relationship. You can't court her now! She'd only get confused and push you away."

"So what the hell am I supposed to do, oh guru?" Draco muttered sarcastically.

Harry, however, seemed to be thinking quite seriously. "You need to spend more time with her first. Get to be close friends, like Ginny and I am. But, you know, be straight."

The blond rolled his eyes. "No problem there."

"Then, when she stops complaining about Ron and their relationship has mended, you can start courting her for real."

"But that could take months!"

"Then break your stupid one year rule!"

"Absolutely not! It's like keeping your virginity until marriage; it is something that must be followed through."

"…You're a virgin?"

"_NO!_" Draco groaned. "Is that _all_ you picked up from what I just said?"

Harry shrugged. "Point is, something has to give. You can't rush Hermione, or you'll lose whatever chance you could have with her. And I'm warning you, Draco." Harry stood, his magical aura beginning to manifest corporally and whipping around the Man-Who-Lived-Twice. "If you hurt Hermione, friend or no friend, I won't hesitate to remind you why it is unwise to cross me."

Gulping, Draco tried to hide his nervousness. It was so easy to forget how powerful Harry was—who could connect this Harry with the idiot who was on his hands and knees, hoping to snog the Headmaster?—and it was uncomfortable to feel beneath someone.

"Y-Yes, I understand. But I assure you, Potter. If I'm going to court Hermione, then I intend to do so in a way that she'd be happy with me. I would never value my inheritance over Hermione's happiness."

Harry's narrowed eyes widened slightly and the menacing aura dissipated. "I…see." Finally, Harry smiled and sat down beside Draco, once again the happy-go-lucky idiot Draco knew well.

"I think you'll be good together. You're both smart, you're both independent, and you're both resourceful."

Draco nodded absently. They did sound like an okay couple, but there was also their mutual stubbornness, her stupid activist projects, his snootiness, her outspoken nature, his equally combative personality, etc.

The list went on. But Draco was also out of options. Hermione Granger _had_ to fall in love with him.

And the only way to do that was to kill Ronald Weasley.

"And don't kill Ron," Harry added as an afterthought.

'_Damn_.' Draco thought.

"Fine. But I _will_ have a chat with him."

Harry shrugged. "Fine with me. Anyway, where did Severus go after you left him?"

Draco sighed, but his faced betrayed his amusement. "To the Charms classroom. He and Hermione are having their regular research party."

Harry pouted. "I _hate_ that! She's too hot to be around him! I'll never have a shot at him!"

With another self-suffering sigh, Draco threw himself back onto the couch. "Dammit, Boy Wonder, _just ask him out to dinner already_."

Harry startled and looked at his companion. "You think he'd say yes?"

"_Yes_."

A loud _whoop_ of victory left the brunet as he threw himself on top of his companion, hugging the poor Slytherin relentlessly. "Thank you, Draco!"

"Get off, you idiot! _I'm_ not gay!"

* * *

"Severus," Hermione began, glancing at her research partner. Since her return to Hogwarts, Hermione had found the real Severus much more agreeable and had endeavored to learn as much as she could from him (especially since his marks were better than hers). He agreed to allow her to join his Potions research and soon, they developed a close camaraderie that rivaled Ginny and Harry's. Though the Potions Master was much more reserved—and didn't cry nearly as much as Harry—Hermione had learned that Severus was actually quite starved for friendship; he'd denied himself the simple pleasure so long, he didn't know how to be a friend anymore. Hermione was more than glad to teach him.

"Yes, Granger?"

"Ah…this may seem like an odd question, but…are you gay?"

Severus didn't even bat an eye. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I just…have you noticed all the attention you've gotten lately? All those gifts and the multiple charmed objects that are left around you?"

"The ones that activate on magical signatures? And cause a wizard or witch to be paralyzed until a certain action is performed? Yes, I am aware of them."

"Why…er…why have you not pursued the matter, then?" Hermione asked, staring at her partner.

With a sigh, Severus cast a wandless _stasis_ charm and sat in his tall, black armchair. With a graceful wave of his hand, he motioned for Hermione to sit in front of him. As she did, a tea set appeared on the table between them and Severus wandlessly poured them each a cup of tea, to their liking. With a demure sip, Hermione settled herself in for a long-coming explanation.

"To be perfectly frank, Granger, I did not realize that all…_that_ was for me."

Hermione nearly spit out her tea.

"Of course I was aware of it and of course I, quite easily, deduced who was behind it. However, because I was never informed of his…_preferences_, I assumed all of that was for Ms. Lovegood. As such, whenever such a trap was set, I would ensure to avoid it so that it would ensnare Ms. Lovegood instead. I imagined she would never leave Longbottom—thought I _sincerely_ can't grasp why—but the person who was trying to so hard to get her attention should, in my opinion, be allowed a chance at her. It was only recently that I discovered the true nature of those…attentions."

Hermione raised a brow, a perfect imitation of Severus, and silently asked for him to continue. In response, Severus drank his tea then sighed.

. . .

"He's gay," Draco shrugged, "but surely you knew this."

The look on Severus' face said the opposite.

"How could you _not_?" Draco demanded.

"I don't make it a point to learn the sexual orientation of all my staff members!" Severus defended.

"But, what do you think he does while he's lurking outside your office?"

Severus raised an uncomprehending eyebrow. "It's obvious, isn't it? He is attempting to trap Ms. Lovegood. Completely ludicrous and a waste of time; she's hopelessly in love with Longbottom—thought I can't _possibly_ fathom why—and she's unlikely to fall for Potter. I suppose I can respect his persistence."

Draco stared at Severus. After all that, Severus _really_ hadn't noticed?

"What kind of spy _are_ you!?"

The Half-Blood Prince looked taken-aback. "What?"

"What kind of spy _doesn't_ realize when he's being _hit on_?"

It was a good thing Severus spent time gaining a healthier glow to his skin. The rosy red his cheeks had turned would have looked awful on his previously sallow skin; now, it looked fetching.

"Wait…so, you're saying that Potter is _gay_ and interested in _me_? That this whole time, he's been trying to get _me_ in his juvenile traps?"

Exasperated, Draco nodded. "The word 'duh' doesn't cover it, Severus."

"Why didn't he just ask me out for dinner?" Severus frowned, kindly overlooking Draco's snippy comment.

"Maybe because he thinks you were in love with his _mother_?"

The poor Headmaster gagged. "In _love_? With _Lily_? Augh!"

After watching Severus dry heave for a few seconds, Draco sighed. "I mean, were you not?"

"No!" Severus yelled, before realizing what he'd done and quieting. "No, of course not. Lily…she was my best friend and my only family. I lost a sister to a boy who made it a point to remind me no one loved me. It was the greatest betrayal I'd ever felt. And when she couldn't forgive me after calling her a…well, you know…I felt that whatever love she held for me as a brother was well and gone. But, I digress…I did not love Lily in a romantic fashion. I had my share of male lovers in Hogwarts during my final years; luckily, Potter was more distracted with Lily, so he didn't harass me."

"Huh," Draco replied. "I never would've thought. You should tell the Boy Wonder, then."

Severus looked away, eyes hooded. "Enough of that. Regarding your marriage problem…"

. . .

Hermione giggled behind her hand. Of course, Draco didn't know the meaning of subtle. Severus merely looked at her.

"I had my suspicions regarding Harry's mum. For a man who was supposedly in love with her, you never made any move to suggest you wanted more from her. Even now, the pictures I see of you two in your office only remind me of me and Harry or Harry and Ginny—nothing romantic."

Severus nodded. He was not surprised that Granger had reached such a conclusion. He was rapidly getting used to Granger even finishing his sentences. The girl…_woman_…had a knack for knowing him better than he knew himself. As did most women he allowed into his life.

With a smirk, he glanced at the cat ornament on his mantle.

"Well, I think you should ask Harry for dinner," she finally announced.

_That_ time, Severus spat his tea back out. "And, pray tell, _why_?"

Hermione shrugged. "If for nothing else, to stop those House Elves from delivering singing telegrams from your 'Secret Admirer.'"

Severus shuddered. Dobby never could hit that B note properly.

* * *

Draco smiled into the fire, having just returned from Astoria's house. As he predicted, Astoria took the break up well in-stride and wished him all the happiness in the world. She kissed his cheek, thanked him for caring about her, and insisted they stay in touch.

Draco turned and stiffened. He could feel another presence in his quarters; slowly, he walked through the dark living room, sensing furiously around him. Finally, he felt the presence in his room. He opened the door and, with a quick _lumos_, let out a relieved sigh.

On his bed, still in her teaching robes, was Hermione.

Although Luna had access to Draco's private flat in Muggle London, Hermione knew the password to his quarters at Hogwarts. Though, that was unavoidable. Their first year, both Harry and Draco had frequently forgotten their given passwords—because Severus was a precocious, sadistic ass—and were oftentimes locked out of their rooms. Finally, an exasperated Hermione asked for their passwords and had them memorized. Though the times the boys forgot their passwords were now few and far in between, Hermione remembered their passwords well; whenever she overexerted herself in classes or in her research, it was not uncommon for her to crash on of the boys' beds.

However, Draco's recent conversation with Harry had changed things. Where once, he would look at Hermione and smile fondly, rolling his eyes, this time he actually _looked _at her. He rounded his bed silently and stared at the petite, but voluptuous form on his bed. He'd thought of her as a friend for so long, Draco hardly noticed how stunning Hermione now was.

Her chest rose and fell slowly as she breathed quietly; her red and gold, absolutely Gryffindor, scarf wrapped around her shoulders loosely; her long teaching skirt had ridden up, showing more of her stocking-covered legs than the usually shy woman probably thought acceptable; her long hair, brown and gold and every shade in between, splayed across his pillow haphazardly. Draco let out a breath slowly.

She didn't look half bad on his bed.

As if she could hear him thinking—with that super-brain of hers, he wouldn't doubt it—her eyes fluttered open and big, brown irises focused blearily at him. One side of her mouth quirked up, her crooked smile, and he realized that he _really_ liked having her wake up on his bed.

"Hey," he said quietly, gently lowering her skirt with his wand.

She blushed prettily, stretched her arms above her head, and yawned. "Hey, yourself. Sorry about crashing here again. Severus worked me to the bone with our research today."

Draco shrugged, magic-ing some candles on as he sat beside her on the bed. Hermione tucked her legs beneath her and laid her head on his shoulder. It was something she'd done countless times, but Draco was hyper-aware; did he smell bad? Would she notice that he was nervous? Since when did Malfoy's get _nervous_? Damn, what the hell was she doing to him?

"Er," Draco muttered after some silence, "how _is_ your research going?"

Hermione smiled. "Wonderfully. Besides figuring out how to make polyjuice last longer, Severus may have found a way to flavor potions without compromising anything. It's not a huge step in the name of science, but it is a huge step towards stopping all those complaints we get from St. Mungo's."

The Slytherin chuckled. "I'd say that's a pretty big; now students can have raspberry flavored amortentia."

"God forbid!" Hermione laughed.

"So," Draco looked away awkwardly, "how go things with Weasley?"

The woman sighed. "I can't believe I dated him. I can't believe I _smelled_ him in the amortentia. I don't know…I thought it could work, because he _is_ a brilliant strategist, but it's not enough. He doesn't take any interest in me or what I do. He just wants someone to come home to, but that won't be me. I can't _be_ at home for him all the time because I like leading my own life. He wanted me to leave Hogwarts for him." She looked around Draco's bedroom, smiling wistfully. "But I couldn't leave my home."

"Well, he's certainly not the feminist sort," Draco smiled.

"I suppose not," she smiled, "But we're working on our friendship. It would go better if he'd…ah, well, forget it."

Draco perked up. "If what? You can tell me."

Hermione bit her lip. "I…I mean, I haven't even told Harry, yet…"

"The Boy Wonder? He'll be fine. It's not like we get mad when you tell one of us something first."

Draco refused to tell Hermione that they did, indeed, get angry when they found out they were the last to find something out. It was a small remnant of their fierce rivalry from their youth. But, in the name of getting Hermione to _like_ Draco, the Slytherin figured Harry wouldn't mind this one time.

She smiled. "You're right. You're not kids anymore."

'_Right, sure,'_ Draco thought.

"Well, since our break up, he refuses to talk to me. We agreed that we should be friends, but he's thrown himself into his work and refuses to try to work this out. I didn't want to tell Harry, because he'd just get upset at Ron; I know we're usually used to Ron being immature, but I think Ron is just lashing out."

"Lashing out?"

"Unlike me and Harry, Ron wasn't invited to teach at Hogwarts. Severus recognized that Ron is a fantastic strategist and damn good at chess, but that's it. Madam Hooch is still teaching here and doesn't plan on retiring and there are no other positions that Ron could've taken; he didn't do well enough in school for that. The Auror department is glad to have him and he works well there, but I think he's jealous and a bit hurt that he couldn't return to Hogwarts like Harry and I did. I think that's why he asked me to leave Hogwarts when he proposed."

Draco's eyes bugged. "He _proposed_?"

Hermione nodded sadly. "And I said no."

"I…_wow_. I mean, good on you for having your priorities straight, but I think I can see where he's coming from."

The woman sighed. "I can too, but it doesn't make it right."

Draco groaned. "'Mione, don't make me do this…"

"Do what?"

"Defend the idiot."

Hermione merely raised a brow.

"Merlin damn it, 'Mione, give the guy some time. You _just_ broke his heart. Maybe it didn't feel that way to you, but any man who was lucky enough to date you would be devastated to be dumped by you. Imagine how Weasley feels; he got dumped when he was _proposing_. He was asking you to be his life partner and he got shot down. That's hard to take. I don't think he's being immature so much as in pain. As much as I hate to say this—_and I really do hate it_—he needs some time away from you. Being near you now is just reminding him of what he lost and how fruitless it would be to try and get it back."

Hermione blinked, her eyebrows furrowing. "Oh, god…you think…you think he was _in love _with me?"

"That's what 'Will you marry me' tends to imply, yes."

"I…I figured he just asked because we'd been dating so long; more out of obligation, I guess. I didn't think he _actually_ loved me."

Draco rolled his eyes dramatically. "And the emotionally stunted one here is me?"

Hermione smiled weakly. "I suppose, much as I know about everything else, love is one thing I didn't study well."

"Well, as many of the books written on love are complete shit, I don't blame you."

They sat in silence for a while, Hermione laying her head back on Draco's shoulder. He stared at the wall, frustrated. Mending a broken heart wasn't an easy thing and would take more time than Draco had. With a frown, Draco contemplated focusing his attention elsewhere. He didn't know many half-blood witches and he definitely was not going to marry a Muggle. His choices were becoming more and more limited.

And then, Hermione sat up; in the dim light of the candles, she kissed his cheek, just short of the corner of his lips. A jolt of electricity flew through Draco, the likes of which he'd never felt before.

Not even when making love to Astoria.

Hermione, apparently oblivious of what she'd done to him, leaned back and smiled. "Thank you for talking to me, Draco. I appreciate it."

"I, uh, of course," he replied quickly, "Anything for a friend."

* * *

Severus sat at the head table, head in his hands. Much as he tried, he couldn't cover his ears enough to block out the sound. He was sure even a _muffliato_ wouldn't be able to block out _Dobby's goddamn singing_.

"_And IiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiii will always loOOOOOve yoooouuuu!"_

Thankfully, as the students had yet to arrive—they'd arrive in a day or so—the only ones to bear witness to Severus' public humiliation was the staff.

Not that Minerva didn't make it a point to rail him on it constantly.

Harry sat to his right, smiling encouragingly at Dobby and giving him thumbs up every few seconds. Clearly, Harry had no idea what _tone_ was. To his left, Minerva used a recording charm; obviously, she intended on using it to torture Severus more. The younger staff, who decided to inhabit the side Harry sat on, pulled out their Muggle phones and recorded Dobby as well.

"_ENOUGH!_" Severus finally bellowed, standing. Dobby jumped and quieted.

"Has Dobby failed Headmaster Snape somehow? Oh, Dobby _knew_ he should have gone to the E note when he sang the last 'you'! Dobby is sorry, Headmaster Snape!"

Hopping over the table, Severus grabbed Dobby's head before he could smash it into Severus' dinner. "_First of all_, Dobby, the note was a _B_. You're still at the beginning of the song! _Second of all_, do not punish yourself. _Third of all_, if it will stop all this damn singing…"

Severus turned to Harry with the iciest glare the younger man had ever seen.

"Uh…?" Harry shrunk in his chair.

"Would you do me the honor of having dinner with me, Potter?" Severus ground out between his teeth.

Harry immediately jumped out of his chair with a cry of victory. "Yes! Yes! Absolutely! When? Tonight? Hogsmeade? Or maybe Muggle London? Or maybe France? Or—!"

"Potter!" Severus growled, silencing the Gryffindor. "Shut. _Up_. I will inform you at a later time. Now, can we _please_ get on with our dinner? We have one more evening before those brats get here and I have to listen to that _damn_ _hat's_ song again. May I enjoy my last evening of freedom in peace?"

Minerva smirked. "You may as well, Severus. Merlin knows that dating Potter means you'll have to deal with even _more_ shows of affection. He may just get a whole choir of House Elves."

Harry, unfortunately for Severus, seemed intrigued by the idea.

"Merlin forbid," Severus groaned.

* * *

For the record, though the two characters I chose were Harry and Severus, this story is primarily a Draco/Hermione story. However, I figure I ought to let people know right away it's a slash story as well.

Also, before someone says it (as they often have in my other stories) _yes__, _"brunet" is the proper term for Harry's hair color. Because there is no specific term for someone with black hair (and I _refuse_ to use "raven-haired" or some such thing), brunet is all encompassing of those with brown _and_ black hair. "Noirette" is not a real word, and even if it were, it would refer to a woman with black hair, if French gender-based grammar is to be adhered to.

Ah, yes. And sorry for the mistakes. I don't have a beta, though I try mightily to proofread this myself.


	3. What A Laugh

"Would you do me the honor of having dinner with me, Potter?" Severus ground out between his teeth.

Harry immediately jumped out of his chair with a cry of victory. "Yes! Yes! Absolutely! When? Tonight? Hogsmeade? Or maybe Muggle London? Or maybe France? Or—!"

"Potter!" Severus growled, silencing the Gryffindor. "Shut. _Up_. I will inform you at a later time. Now, can we _please_ get on with our dinner? We have one more evening before those brats get here and I have to listen to that _damn_ _hat's_ song again. May I enjoy my last evening of freedom in peace?"

Minerva smirked. "You may as well, Severus. Merlin knows that dating Potter means you'll have to deal with even _more_ shows of affection. He may just get a whole choir of House Elves."

Harry, unfortunately for Severus, seemed intrigued by the idea.

"Merlin forbid," Severus groaned.

* * *

"_Ssssseverus_," Harry moaned happily. "_Ssssseeeeverusssss_."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, will you _shut up_, Wonder Boy?" Draco growled.

The two men sat on Harry's loveseat (if only the couch were more comfortable…), Draco bemoaning his encounter with Hermione and Harry delighting in his recently-acquired date.

"But his name sounds _so sexy_. It's perfect for a parseltongue like me!" Harry grinned, switching to his other language. "_**Ssssssseeeeveruuuussss**_**.**"

"For the love of Merlin, _help me_ with Hermione!"

"Oh, yeah," Harry nodded. "We can't all be as happy as me."

"It's just dinner, Wonder Boy. He didn't propose or anything."

Harry pouted. "Don't jinx it! This dinner is clearly the means to an end. We have dinner, we fall in love, we shag, and we get married! It's perfect. We'll even have the Dumbledore painting do the proceedings."

Draco rolled his eyes. "First of all, paintings _can't_ do proceedings and even if they could, Dumbledore was never licensed to do so. Second of all, you're going to jinx yourself by hoping for sex on the first date—"

"Who _doesn't_ hope for sex on the first date?" Harry interrupted.

"—with a man like Severus, who is old-fashioned." Draco finished, eyes squinted.

Harry bit his lip. "Oh, yeah. I guess Severus _would be_ traditional about this. Wait, so…you think he'll make me wait _three whole dates_?"

"You'll be lucky if he makes you wait seventeen." Draco laughed. "Brush up on 70s and 80s dating practices and you'll have an idea of where you stand."

"Where _do _I stand?"

"Nowhere near Severus' bed, that's for sure."

Harry sobbed.

"Damn, how is anyone supposed to put up with you when you cry over everything?"

"Only Severus related things!"

"_Anyway_," Draco sighed. "Hermione."

"Oh, yes." Harry looked away sadly. "I can't believe Ron proposed…"

"And that sets me back _months_."

"Is that really what you're worried about?" Harry frowned, crossing his arms.

"_Yes!_" Draco scowled. Eventually, his expression softened. "Of course not. I'm worried about Ron, too. The poor guy got his heart broken. But still…I mean, when Hermione kissed me…"

"_SHE KISSED YOU?" _Harry screeched.

"Dammit, Sindel, mind quieting down? I'd like to keep my eardrums from popping." (i)

"Hermione _kissed_ you?" the brunet persisted.

"Just on the cheek; she almost got my lips, but…I don't think that's what she was going for. We admittedly had little to no light. She probably didn't realize I was sort of facing her."

"But…" Harry's bottom lip stuck out as he thought. "'Mione's never kissed you."

"Well, I guess she was just thankful. If she wanted to make a move, she could've tried again and gone for my lips. It wasn't like I moved away or anything."

Harry shrugged, looking at his friend slyly. "Whatever you say."

"Whatever _I_ say!" a voice said cheerfully from Harry's fireplace.

"Ginny!" Harry hopped up, running towards the soot-covered girl.

"Harry!" she cried, allowing herself to be enveloped in his hug. Draco smiled at them and walked over, laying a friendly kiss on Ginny's cheek, as she was wont to do with all her friends. She kissed Harry's cheek, grabbed both their hands, and sat them on the loveseat while she occupied both their laps.

"So, what are we talking about?" she asked casually.

Harry laughed. "We're talking about your game! How did it go?"

"How did it go? _How did it go_?" Ginny grinned prettily. "Like it always does! We beat those losers! We're in the semi-finals!"

Draco smirked. "You get to knock anyone off their broom?"

"Draco Malfoy!" Ginny admonished. "I am a _chaser_, not a beater…but, yes and it was totally awesome!" she squealed.

"You're incorrigible," the brunet grinned.

"I don't know the meaning of the word," Ginny replied, smirking in a fashion that resembled Draco entirely too much. "So, what were we talking about before I got here?"

"We?" Draco questioned. "I don't recall you being included in that conversation."

"Well, I recall being Harry's gossip friend for life, so cough it up you two! What's the lowdown on Hogwarts?"

"If I play my cards right, I may just get to enjoy the lowdown on Severus Snape," said Harry.

"Ooh!" Ginny's hands flew to her mouth, "Do tell!"

"Actually, I was all set to ask him out for dinner like Drake said to; I figured a song would soften him up first, so I had Dobby serenade him for me."

"Which snapped for Severus' already thin grasp on his sanity and prompted the poor man to ask Wonder Boy here out to dinner," Draco finished.

Ginny barked out a laugh. "So, he finally caught on, eh? Took him, what, a year and a half?"

"He thought Harry was courting Luna this whole time," the Slytherin explained.

"_Luna?_"

"Don't say her name around me!" Harry cried.

"Why?" the red-head raised a brow.

Draco rolled his eyes. "He's still mad that Luna got Neville to release him from a trap."

Ginny shrugged, uncomprehending.

"The only way to be released was to be snogged thoroughly."

The woman fell off their laps, laughing and snorting.

"Oh, shut up! She could've kissed me herself and we'd all be fine, but _nooooo_. She had to get _Neville_!" Harry spat the name nastily.

Draco raised a brow. "What _is_ your problem with Neville, anyway? Since we've started working together, you've been kind of cold to the poor guy."

Ginny sat up on the floor. "Oh, _yeah_. I don't see him round here often anymore. What happened?"

Harry's eyes narrowed.

. . .

The party at the Weasley's Burrow, celebrating the new recruits in Hogwarts, was in full swing. Once again, the Weasley boys set up the tent and decorated the interior with beautiful charms. A large buffet was spread out on an extra-long table and everyone was joyous. For the first time in years, the threat of Death Eaters and Voldemort was no longer an issue. There was no need to cling to hope; they'd done so long enough. Now, Harry smiled as he looked around, they were reaping the fruit of that hope.

The party had been Harry's idea, though Molly made it happen. Of course, Harry decided he needed to have a say in at least _one thing_—the seating arrangements. He randomly assorted the others—which is how Remus was now sitting with Lucius Malfoy instead of Tonks—but he made sure that _he_ sat with Severus Snape.

As he began approaching the table, he was delighted to see that all but two seats were taken. Everyone at his table were well aware of his crush—Draco, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville, Ginny, and the twins—and two seats were left open. Draco had taken the seat to his godfather's left, leaving the seat to Severus' right and the seat between Ron and Luna open. Harry grinned and walked toward the table, intent on getting that seat on Severus' right.

_This_ was _his_ night! He'd sit with Severus, everyone would get the hint and leave, he'd wow the Potion's Master with his wit and charm, and then they'd go inside, hide in a cupboard or something, and shag the party away.

They'd probably even get engaged and shag some more.

It was a perfect plan…until Neville _Motherfucking_ Longbottom showed up and _sat in the seat Harry was heading towards_.

And instead of realizing who he was sitting next to and _moving the hell away_, Neville engaged Severus in conversation. Harry was forced to sit between Ron and Luna, Ron giving the brunet a sympathetic pat on the back.

"Next time, mate," Ron had said.

_Fuck_ next time. Neville was going to _pay_.

. . .

"Are you kidding me?" Draco laughed, "You're _still _holding a grudge for that? Neville was just asking the bloke about his lesson plan!"

"He stole my Severus time! We'd be dating by now if it weren't for _Neville Motherfucking Longbottom_!" Harry growled.

Ginny continue to roll on the floor, helplessly laughing. She began to beg incoherently for someone to stop her so she could breathe, but neither of the boys understood her very much.

"Let it go, Wonder Boy. He's asked you out to dinner, right? Something finally worked!"

Harry pouted, but calmed down. "I suppose you're right."

Ginny finally regained her breath, sitting herself back on their laps. "Oh, man, what a laugh…But, yeah, Harry; time to make amends with Neville. You're going to bang Snape soon, so there's no point in moping about a missed opportunity anymore. If you're going to be happy with Snape, you need to start on a clean slate—that means no grudges pertaining to Snape that could turn into jealousy anytime Neville is near Snape."

Harry groaned and threw his head back, "I don't wanna!"

With a roll of his eyes, the blond patted his simple friend on the head. "What kind of hero are you?"

"The kind that is sexually repressed!"

Ginny smiled at her friend, patting his chest. She turned to Draco, "So, how about you? How goes things with Astoria? And…how have you been doing since the funeral?"

Draco smiled sadly. "I'm better. I knew it was coming, to be fair, so I wasn't surprised. As soon as mum went, I knew dad would be soon after. Those two were inseparable; death didn't seem like much of a hindrance. As for Astoria…I broke things off with her."

Concisely, Draco explained to the woman why he'd broken up with Astoria, his inheritance, his plans to woo Hermione, what Hermione had told him, and the kiss she gave him.

"_HERMIONE KISSED YOU!_"

"Bloody banshees, the lot of you!" Draco yelled back, covering his ears.

"Sorry," Ginny didn't look repentant. "But wow, even a kiss on the cheek is something. Hermione isn't the sort of person to show affection like that to a guy. She finds it misleading."

"She just found out she broke her best friend's heart. People get a little more affectionate when they're sad," Draco sighed.

"You know, denial isn't just a river in Egypt," Ginny smirked.

"That's what I said," Harry beamed, lifting his head back up, "It _must've_ meant something!"

"Well, if it did, why didn't she react the way I did? Why didn't she feel that jolt?" Draco muttered.

"How do you know she didn't?" Ginny asked.

"She wasn't nervous and she didn't jump…nothing! She just kept on _smiling_, the bitch."

Harry punched his shoulder.

"Ow! _Excuse me_, princess."

Ginny caught Harry's hand before it made contact with Draco's family jewels. "_Anyway_, what we're trying to say is that you should talk to Ron and make sure you have his blessing, then pursue something with 'Mione. 'Mione never really loved Ron—which does suck 'cause now she'll never be a Weasley—but that means that 'Mione isn't the one that has to move on and get her heart mended. It means she's the one who's fine; _Ron_ is the one who needs comforting and space and time."

"And who's going to do that?" Draco scowled. "I'll just end up hexing him until he feels better."

"Well, you did help me with Severus," Harry shrugged. "And Ron is my best mate. I'll go talk to him tomorrow morning, before the kids get here."

"I'll go with you," Ginny said softly, "I feel like he could use a few friendly faces."

Harry smiled sadly and nodded.

"So, what song finally broke Severus?" Ginny asked, breaking the silence.

"Whitney Houston's 'I'll Always Love You'!" Harry replied enthusiastically.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well, I suppose asking you out to dinner was more convenient than murdering you."

* * *

Hermione yawned, stretching her arms up as she readied for bed. She pulled her covers back and frowned, noting the Slytherin scarf that sat on her pillows.

_Right,_ she thought, _Draco let me borrow his scarf when I couldn't find my Gryffindor one._

Draco…Hermione huffed and sat on her bed.

Two years ago, Hermione knew exactly where her life was going. She was going to finish her apprenticeship with Severus, work in St. Mungo's as their Potion's Mistress, marry Ron, and live happily ever after.

But then, Severus had asked her to stay. Before he asked anyone else, he confided in her that he needed a Charms professor and that she was perfect for the job. The job was easy enough that she could still focus on her own research and she could stay at Hogwarts for free. St. Mungo's was nice, he admitted, but most of their potions they received from a company he started—which employed only the worlds' foremost Potioneers—and would be unlikely to hire her unless she invented a better Potion than him. He promised to even help her with her research; at 20 years old, Hermione couldn't ask for a better job opportunity. She'd already rejected the Aurors; fighting was something she never wanted to do again.

So, she stayed in Hogwarts with Severus, learning that Draco, Harry, Neville, and Luna were joining her. Her final year had been surreal—sitting at the Slytherin table with the others, just to be around Draco, was something she'd never thought she'd do. And that's when things got messy.

Once they'd graduated and Ron took the Auror job while Hermione remained in Hogwarts, their relationship got strained. Ron kept insisting that he never saw Hermione and Hermione kept insisting that Ron never cared about what she did. She knew he loved her.

At one point, she loved him back.

But she thought, perhaps, that love was forced—like Ginny and Harry. And, unlike Ginny and Harry, Hermione and Ron were too stuck in their routine to realize they didn't belong together.

It didn't help that Hermione and Draco spent so much time together.

Though she never made a show of getting close to him, Hermione found that the only person she could talk to about her research or her studies or her class was Draco. Of course, Harry and Ginny and Luna and Neville—and even Ron, to some extent—listened to her; but they never _understood _her. With the exception of Severus, they all had a hard time understanding what was so revolutionary about her research.

But Draco understood.

Once she revealed to him that she intended to, as Severus had once put it, "put a stopper on death," he'd been intrigued and followed her research diligently. He never asked her what ingredient did what or what did that term mean. He never needed her to explain anything but her procedure and he was truly as fascinated as she—enough to help her sometimes, when he could.

It wasn't just that Draco was talented at Potions; he sincerely wanted to help Hermione. Ron, on the other hand, scoffed and called it impossible.

She hated that.

She would talk about how, even though she knew they were usually impossible to mix, she was going to use two different kinds of mythical beast hair. Ron called it a waste of time; Draco called it fascinating. She would gush about using the Basilisk skin Harry left behind in the chamber. Ron nodded, then apologized and asked her to repeat herself; Draco begged—and bribed her—for some of those ingredients. She'd mention that she was going to work late with Severus on her research. Ron would throw a fit; Draco would grin at her conspiratorially.

And so, she found herself getting closer to Draco. Hermione never intended it, but she connected with him intellectually on a level that no one but Severus could match.

Those Slytherins, eh?

Of course, Hermione could never be attracted to Severus. He far surpassed her in intelligence—something that never stopped irritating her—and he only really indulged her in conversations that motivated thought. He was her wealth of knowledge, her El Dorado of science and literature. Like Minerva, he was someone she looked up to and considered a mentor. But Draco, he was on her level completely. He could be serious and studious or silly and simple; he matched the mood she felt and she never felt like she had to hide who she was. She could use huge, out of use words and Draco would know them too.

_Abderian_

"Prone to incessant, idiotic laughter," Draco replied. "For further explanation, see 'Harry Potter'."

_Colposinquanonia_

"Estimating how attractive a woman is based on her bust," Draco chuckled, "That makes you _stunning_."

_Basorexia_

"Not considered a word according to any prominent dictionaries, but it means an overwhelming desire to neck or kiss," Draco smirked. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

_Draco, Draco, Draco…_

She sighed, pouting. She nearly made a fool of herself; by luck, she missed his mouth and ended up kissing his cheek. Hermione shook her head. She couldn't afford to start something with Draco. He was still with Astoria and, far as she knew, he'd be marrying her as Lucius probably had wished. Besides, her friendship with him was irreplaceable. She'd be devastated if she lost him because she couldn't keep her hormones in check.

_And right after telling him I turned Ron's proposal down,_ she sighed morosely, _I'm a monster_.

Resigning herself to another sleepless night, Hermione threw herself under her covers regardless. She could at least _pretend_ she was going to sleep. She stared into the darkness for a few seconds, until a knock at the portrait flung her out of her musings.

_Who could that be?_

Sighing as if the world was ending (and as loudly as possible to instill some guilt in the bastard), she put on her robe and walked to her portrait, opening it. She scowled at the person, until recognition hit her and forced her to gasp.

"Ron?" the brunette asked.

"Hey, 'Mione," the man said miserably. "Can we talk?"

"Well, sure," she stammered, "Come in."

She led him into her sitting room, summoning a House Elf to get them some tea. The creature bowed and appeared seconds later with a tea set for them.

"Thank you," she nodded, then turned to Ron when the Elf disappeared again. "So…uh…?"

"Sorry about this, Hermione," he sighed, "I just…after you turned me down, I was really hurt. I know we said we'd work on our friendship, but blimey if I didn't love you, 'Mione. It hurt to think about seeing you almost every day."

_Dammit, Draco,_ she groused inwardly, _you just _had_ to be right._

"But, I'm not that whiny little arsehole who abandoned you guys when we were searching for the horcruxes. I'm older now and I gotta own up. I'll try to be more mature about this, but…"

"Oh, Ron," she said softly, laying her hand on top of his.

Ron turned to her and smiled sadly. Since joining the Aurors, Ronald Weasley was definitely not the definition of scrawny. His broad shoulders were well accentuated by all the muscles he'd gained. His freckled face was manly and his chin was strong. His bright, fire red hair was messy but complimentary. He'd had a second growth spurt and was the tallest of their little group, taller than Neville. And, despite how Hermione imagined him, Ron had indeed matured over the years.

Perhaps Hermione's own bitterness had made Ron sound just a little whinier than he really was in her head.

"No, Ron," she sighed, "You have every right to need some time to yourself. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you. I'm sorry I don't feel the same way, but this is for the best."

Ron nodded. "Can I know who he is?"

"He?" she raised a brow.

"The guy you like now. The one that stole you from me."

Hermione frowned. "I feel the way I do because I realize we're not going to work well. There doesn't _need_ to be someone else for me not to return your feelings."

Ron winced. "Sorry."

"Don't be," she groaned. "There is someone I may have a crush on. But he wasn't the reason I realized we weren't working out. My research did that."

"Oh," Ron frowned slightly. "Yeah. I'm sorry I never took you seriously with that."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," she responded.

"Can I know his name now?"

"Promise you won't freak out?"

Ron smiled weakly. "Promise."

…

"_DRACO FUCKING MALFOY!_" Ron screeched.

Hermione stood, holding her hands up in a placating manner. "You said you wouldn't freak out!"

At first, Ron merely stared at her, breathing heavily through his nostrils. Then, he seemed to calm down and sit back, looking at her thoughtfully. Finally, something must have snapped in his head, because he began chuckling until he was full-blown laughing.

"What's so funny?" Hermione pouted.

"Y-Your kids will have the weirdest hair in the freaking world! I-Imagine, platinum blond frizz!" Ron cracked up again.

Eventually, Hermione's lips quirked up, and she chuckled too. "I suppose our kids would look odd."

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Ron finally straightened. "Oh, man, what a laugh. Anyway, 'Mione…I don't know how I feel about this. I mean, I'm still in love with you. But," Ron shrugged, a serene smile on his face. "If he makes you happy and if this is what you want, I'll support you. I mean, I got over Harry wanting Snape—now_ that_ was disturbing."

Hermione joined Ron as he laughed.

"He make any headway, finally?" Ron grinned, leaning back and getting comfortable again.

The brunette shook her head, smiling, enjoying their ease again. "Finally. All it took was driving Severus insane."

"Oh yeah?"

"Dobby never _could_ hit that B note."

Ron burst out in guffaws again.

* * *

(i) Sindel is a character from Mortal Kombat, if you don't recognize the name. She is the one that screams a lot at her enemies.

Er...please review?


	4. Fellatio

Whoa. In one week, I had to pump out 30 or so pages of work. Plus a video project and all the regular reading I do. Kids, don't go to grad school in the summer.

* * *

"If he makes you happy and if this is what you want, I'll support you. I mean, I got over Harry wanting Snape—_now that_ was disturbing."

Hermione joined Ron as he laughed.

"He make any headway, finally?" Ron grinned, leaning back and getting comfortable again.

The brunette shook her head, smiling, enjoying their ease again. "Finally. All it took was driving Severus insane."

"Oh yeah?"

"Dobby never _could_ hit that B note."

Ron burst out in guffaws again.

* * *

"So, you've already seen 'Mione?" Harry asked, somewhat incredulously.

Harry, Ginny, and even Draco sat in the kitchen table with Ron in his flat, sharing a breakfast of chicken masala, steak kebabs, and naan. When Harry brought it over, Ginny had complained that it wasn't actually breakfast food, but Ron argued that he didn't have a continental breakfast for his guests so they may as well make due.

Not that anyone, other than Ginny, ever complained about Indian food.

Ron nodded, smiling shakily. He hadn't expected to see Draco so soon after seeing his ex-girlfriend, and it stung to think of how he was losing…_had lost_ Hermione to him. "Yeah, I went last night. I figured I was being a bit immature about ignoring her since our break up and—"

Draco interrupted him with a snort. "You weren't being immature, Ron. You deserved some time away from Hermione. Your heart was broken, it's understandable. When it comes to feeling hurt like that, don't ever think you're being immature."

The inhabitants of the table stopped eating and stared at the blond. Ron, especially, was dumbfounded.

"I…what?"

"Exactly what I said," Draco replied.

Ron frowned. "You aren't siding with Hermione?"

Draco glanced away, frowning. "She, uh…she confided in me what happened and said she was a bit angry with your being 'immature'. I told her she wasn't being fair."

Ron grit his teeth and stood abruptly, startling his friends. He shook his head, pointedly stared at Draco, then rushed out of the room. Stunned, the others sat around. Harry began to stand, but Draco put a hand on the brunet's shoulder.

"I think I should go."

"He's my best mate, Drake," Harry argued.

"Harry, I know you are," Draco replied, using Harry's first name for the first time in six months, "But this isn't about being there for your mate. This is about a girl."

Ginny's eyes widened. "You don't think he knows about you chasing Hermione?"

Ron grimaced. "I don't know. Maybe Hermione did notice me coming on to her and told him. Either way, I need to talk to him alone."

Harry gripped the table to hard, his knuckles turned white. Draco stood, staring sadly at his friend. Harry only wanted to make things better.

He always had.

But Draco knew that whatever was bothering Ron now had to do with Draco. With a pat on Harry's shoulders, the blond followed Ron into the spacious, earth-toned living room. Ron, leaning against the mantle, looked up once Draco entered. Clearly, Ron expected him. Wary of what would happen, Draco withdrew his wand and threw out a quick _muffliato_.

"So, uh…"

"You defended me to 'Mione?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I did." Draco frowned. "Why did you leave like that?"

"I…I talked to Hermione last night and I realized that…"

_That I can't tell her secret, dammit. Have a little more tact,_ Ron scowled at himself.

"I realized that Hermione was right. I love her to death, but Hermione needs someone who actually has an interest in what she does and what she gets excited about. That's just not me. I love her, but I never loved what she did or even tried to understand it. That's where we went wrong."

Draco looked away. "Don't you want to tell Harry this?"

Ron smiled sadly. "I'll tell him. But just…I noticed you and Hermione spending more time together and whether she realizes it or not, you've become much more to her than a Potion's buddy. Just…I don't know what's going on with you two or even if you two know what's going on yourselves, but treat 'Mione right, you got that? I won't stand for her crying even once when you…when you ask her out."

Draco's eyes widened and he let out a breath. "I'm sorry, Ron."

"If you're really sorry, you'll make her happy for me." Ron grinned at Draco.

"And also let me see your kids first. Frizzy, bushy, platinum blond hair!" Ron laughed again.

The Slytherin managed a chuckle. "If we're lucky, we won't have any Gryffindors."

Ron nodded, patting Draco on the shoulder as he passed. Draco stood in the same spot for forty-five minutes while Ron talked to Harry, protected by his own _muffliato_. Draco sighed softly. Hermione might like him, if Ron was to be believed. The blond frowned. How did he approach this then?

"What should I do…?" he asked himself quietly, not noticing when his _muffliato_ was waved away.

"Dig into that Gryffindor bravery!" Harry said encouragingly. Draco jumped, leaping away from Harry.

"What the hell, Wonder Boy?" Draco pouted.

"You need to just ask her out!" Ginny said, joining Harry at the threshold of the living room. "You need some Gryffindor courage!"

"That's right, Malfoy!" Ron parroted. "Get some of them Gryffindor balls!"

Harry, Ginny, and Ron laughed loudly while Draco stared. Eventually, a small smile found its way onto his mouth.

"I'm a Slytherin, remember? I'm cunning."

"Then find a cunning way to be braver," Ginny grinned. "She's a Gryffindor! We _all_ are. You have to think like one of us!"

Draco's hand moved to his chin as he thought. He observed each of them carefully, wondering who would be most likely to charm Hermione with their sheer stupidity. Finally, he smirked as he landed on _the_ Gryffindor idiot.

"Wonder Boy, what would you do?"

Harry's sly smirk was entirely too Slytherin.

* * *

Hermione smiled as she worked on her latest project, one she never thought she'd have the privilege and credentials to be able to do.

She was washing Professor Snape's hair.

Tonight was the night of Harry and Severus' date and Hermione had noticed Severus fingering his hair, almost nervously, as he worked on his potions. Hermione realized that, like anyone his age, Severus may have begun feeling self conscious about his appearance. After all, she theorized as she scrubbed away the hours of accumulated caked-on grease and natural hair oil, Severus must've figured he was no spring chicken—though he was young in comparison to the senior members on staff—and he was probably wondering why someone as spring and energetic as Harry Potter wanted him. And so, Hermione had subtly asked Severus if he would like some help preparing. Severus, clearly out of sorts, nodded slowly and Hermione had immediately taken over. As kindly as possible, she'd thrown him into the shower and waited outside politely. As he exited, she noticed he'd neglected his hair. Conjuring one of those salon sinks and chairs she'd once been victim to, she sat him down and washed his hair properly. She sat him under a conjured dryer for fifteen minutes for the deep conditioning, then perched in front of him and held up outfits for him to wear; of course, he was being completely uncooperative and she ended up flinging it all on the bed. Finally, she took him out of the dryer and was currently washing the remains of the conditioner out; she magicked his hair into rollers and sat him under the dryer again.

"I feel ridiculous, Granger," Severus ground out.

"Nonsense!" she said, "You needed it. I'm happy to do it."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Anything else you'd like to do to me? Paint my nails? Put on my make up? Get me a pretty dress?"

Hermione giggled. "Oh, shut up, Severus. Although, a change of wardrobe does sound nice."

"_No skirts_."

"Of course not! I just meant that maybe Muggle attire would suit you best for tonight."

She rooted through his cabinets and wardrobe, throwing aside the clothes she rejected haphazardly. Severus scowled as he was charmed to his chair, forced to endure thirty minutes of sitting under a stove and Granger destroying his room. Finally, Hermione settled on something just as the charm lifted and allowed Severus to stand. She spelled his clothes back into their places and set his clothes on the bed. As he approached, she immediately steered him back into the chair, removing the rolls and blow-drying his hair with her wand. She summoned scissors from his desk and cut small snippets of his hair. Finally, she conjured a mirror and showed it to him, smiling brightly.

Severus stared at himself. Well, not too different, but certainly neater.

"You look fabulous! Now, let's get you dressed."

"You'll pay for this," he muttered darkly, being led back to the clothes. He released a _completely dignified _sound of alarm when she ripped his robe off, dressing him as if he were five.

"_Miss Granger!_ I am quite capable of dressing myself!"

"Oh, shut up, Severus. I've already seen it all. Remember that invisibility potion that went wrong?"

Severus' cheeks stained red; he was determined _never_ to remember that particular catastrophe. He _knew_ he shouldn't have made it a topical potion…

* * *

"Harry!" "Potter!"

Harry grinned, opening the painting and greeting the world's closest twins. As usual, they were exact copies of each other, short of the George's marred ear. George always proclaimed that his only regret was that now he couldn't pretend he was Fred and ruin all his dates. Tall as ever, with red hair as fierce as any Weasley's ought to be, and freckles covering their cheeks, the nearly-identical twins grinned down at their friend; belatedly, Harry realized that they had trapped Draco between them. The Slytherin pouted as he was held "lovingly" between them.

"We found this guy lurking about-" Fred began.

"And decided we should see what he's up to-"

"Since he was heading towards 'Mione's quarters-"

"But we figured he was going the very wrong way-"

"So we grabbed us a cute little snake-"

"And brought him to the lion's den!" George finished.

"Help. Me." Draco ground out between his teeth.

Harry laughed boisterously, pulling them all in. "It's just as well you all came over."

Harry smiled at his other guests. In his sitting room, taking advantage of his TV and Super Nintendo and perched on the floor were Ginny and Luna. Neville sat in the couch closest to Luna and Ron sat on the couch behind the coffee table. Harry grinned and leaned over to Draco. "Besides, 'Mione is helping Severus get ready. These guys were supposed to help me, but you calling me Sindel got me itching to beat Luna's butt."

Draco smirked. "And you lost, didn't you?"

"How is she so good!" The-Man-Who-Lived griped.

"_Merlin fucking damn you, Luna! You go to hell and FUCKING DIE WITH YOUR FUCKING DAMN MERLIN FUCKING GIANT BLACK MAN WHAT THE FUCK!"_ Ginny yelled, her speech eventually deteriorating into incoherent screams.

"My," Fred laughed, sitting on the loveseat.

"What language!" George interjected, sitting beside his brother.

"She's been like this all day," Ron laughed.

Luna merely smiled serenely and performed a fatality.

With an inhuman growl, Ginny threw the controller to the ground. "Augh! Dammit, Harry, why did you even show us this stuff? It's nothing but aggravating!"

"You're just saying that because you've never won," Draco chuckled, taking Ginny's place and picking Sindel.

"You are sort of crap at this, Gin," Harry grinned, wrapping an arm around her. "Enough about that, though! I know Hermione is making Severus damn sexy for me and I want to look just as good. Now, do what you're actually here for and dress me."

With an all-suffering sigh, Ginny nodded, glancing back at Luna. "This isn't over, Lovegood."

"Oh, my, do you hear that? I hear a rare species of hater chirping ever so loudly…" Luna replied airily. Without looking at each other, she and Draco shared a quick high-five.

"Respect." Draco announced and Harry was forced to drag Ginny bodily away from the game. With a hop and a skip, all three brothers managed to weasel their way into the room as well.

"So, Harry," said George.

"You scarlet witch, you," Fred grinned.

"You've got a date with old Snapey-poo?"

"Oh, we can do better than that, George!"

"Can we?"

"We can!"

"Sexyvus?"

"Almost. Double 0 Snape?"

"Never! SS!"

"SS?"

"Salacious Severus."

"Not hardly! Snape-alicious?"

"Cold, cold!" Ron declared, "How about, _The Professor_?"

"I got chills that time!" Fred and George said simultaneously.

Harry sighed loudly. "Can you guys shut up and help me get ready for _The Professor_?"

Everyone shivered.

"Oh, that _is_ a good name," Ginny muttered, grinning. "Anyway! Harry, clean your arse; Ron, Fred, and George, help me help Harry."

Fred walked over to the armoire and started rifling through it as George shoved Harry into the attached bathroom. After the shutting the door, the Weasley siblings congregated in front of the large dresser, picking out clothes and putting them back. Eventually, Ron gave up and fire-called Severus' rooms, asking Hermione what Severus was wearing. She gave him the colors, but not any other specifics, and Ginny decided that was enough for them to go on. After a half hour, Harry emerged from the bathroom.

"What have you got?" he asked.

"Ten minutes to get you ready and outside before Severus has your ass," Ron said sheepishly.

Two seconds later, Harry screeched and tore through the room uselessly as he tried to do everything all at once. Ginny sighed and, with a roll of her eyes, she petrified Harry.

"Okay, I'll do his hair. Fred and George, get his clothes on. Ron, go get his wand, wallet, and mobile together."

Under Ginny's careful instructions and with Harry unable to do anything, they managed to get the man dressed in no time.

"Now how do we get him downstairs without him spazzing out?" Ron wondered.

"_FUCK YOU, LUNA!_" they heard from the other room; immediately after, Draco burst through the room. "Oh, hey, Wonder Boy. You actually look good….Why isn't he responding?"

"Draco, we have four minutes to get him downstairs, but we can't unpetrify him because he'll go insane and probably end up in the Chamber of Secrets somehow. Can you help?" Ginny asked.

The Slytherin shrugged. "Wouldn't be the last time I got Wonder Boy out of a fix. _Levicorpus_." With that, Draco jogged out of the room, floating body of Harry Potter behind him. The group in the sitting room grunted at him as he left, intent in their game. Ginny and her brothers watched Harry's body until the portrait closed, then joined the others in the other room.

"Our little witch is growing up," George sighed.

"Soon, he'll be having sex with _The Professor_," Fred agreed.

Ron shuddered. "And we'll have to hear all about it."

"I hope so! I bet Severus is into BDSM," Ginny sighed dreamily.

Neville rolled his eyes. "It's all fun and games until you have to explain to your girlfriend's dad why there are whip marks on your back at the pool party."

All eyes turned to Luna, who merely ripped off Liu Kang's head and spine out of his body with Sub Zero. "That was a fun day."

* * *

Severus stood just outside of Hogwarts, waiting patiently for Harry. At the sound of quiet footsteps, he turned and raised a brow as his godson levitated said Gryffindor. Gently, Draco lowered Severus' date and muttered the counter curses.

"Oh, god, that is so weird," Harry breathed.

Severus smirked. "Is that the only way they could transport you without your somehow getting lost?"

"That, and I was tired of Luna kicking my butt. I'm gonna go look for your cheat sheet on the fatality moves," Draco pouted, walking back towards Harry's rooms. Harry smiled back at Draco, then turned to take in Severus' appearance.

_The Professor_ did not disappoint.

His hair was shiny and healthy, in light waves that reached his shoulders; his black slacks were pristine, the belt looped through the holes was obviously black leather, and the black oxford shoes that peeked out of the bottom of the slacks' hemline were spotless. Severus' white dress shirt was immaculate and the casual black vest was open. The top two buttons of Severus' shirt were open and the loose, but appropriate emerald tie was just the right amount of color to bring the outfit together. Harry didn't even know Severus owned anything besides sexy ass teaching robes.

"Are you done staring, Mr. Potter?" Severus chuckled.

Harry melted at the sound and blushed as Severus slowly—and pointedly—roved his eyes over Harry's own attire. Of course, The-Man-Who-Lived never doubted Ginny's fashion advice. Being in the spot light many times herself, she had picked up quite a lot from her fashion advisors, and she did her job well. Harry's oxford shirt was the same shade as Severus' tie; his black blazer was light-weight and hung well on his body and the dark blue jeans he wore were tight, but comfortable. On his own feet, he wore his black boat shoes. Not much had been done to his hair; Ginny always believed Harry looked best when his hair looked messy.

"You look fantastic, Severus," Harry finally said.

The man in question nodded, offering his arm. Harry took it happily, taking any excuse to get close to Saverus. "You clean up well, Mr. Potter."

"Uh, since this is a date, could you call me by my given name? Please?"

"As you wish, Harry," Severus replied, turning on the spot.

They apparated somewhere cold, Harry being sure to keep his eyes closed so his stomach wouldn't turn. "Russia?"

"I enjoy the former Soviet Union," Severus replied simply, "And Putin owes me a favor."

* * *

Harry leaned forward, smiling beatifically. After using a glamour to makes their more casual outfits look like three-piece suits (Severus' jacket was actually a tail coat, which enamored Harry), Harry had the honor of meeting Vladimir Putin. Apparently, Severus and Putin had been friends for years, after one of Severus' spying missions into the Muggle world involved infiltrating Russia's political sphere. Through the course of events, Severus and Putin became friends; since then, Severus had been pen pals with Putin, secretly helping Putin's ascent to president and kindly encouraging Putin's decision to leave his wife. Stoic and severe, Harry had a hard time believing Putin, an Ex-KGB, really went into details with his feelings, but Putin happily (well, it seemed so…there wasn't much expression on his face, Harry thought) hugged Severus and led the two men into the Bolshoi Theatre; they were now taking in a show of _Iolanta_ and Harry was entranced. Though he didn't understand the language of the arias, it was easy to tell how in love Iolanta and Count Vaudémont were. Severus had allowed Harry to hold his hand and, the entire opera, stared at the green-eyed man.

"This is so beautiful," Harry whispered.

A side of Severus' lips quirked up. "Yes, it is."

At the end of the show, they bid their farewells to Putin and strolled around Moscow, taking in the sights. Severus removed the glamour and they found a small, intimate restaurant.

Not feeling as adventurous, in the event that there was something after the dinner, Harry had only ordered the shashlyk, made of beef. Severus had ordered the pelmeni in a soup broth. Occasionally, they shared bits of each others' food, but mostly kept to their own meals. As they waited on dessert, Severus had brought up the topic of books and they found out that they'd both read _Oryx and Crake_. Eventually, the conversation moved from what they liked about certain stories to analyses of literature.

"I enjoy queer theory," Harry smiled, "Besides the obvious reason why. I absolutely think it can be applied to _Streetcar_. It makes sense, doesn't it? He hates involving women in his games, needs his space, goes out of his way to keep Mike or Mitch or whatever from Blanche, and he needs to assert his masculinity at the end. Blanche's husband killed himself because he was gay, right? Maybe that struck a chord with Stan and he needed to prove he wasn't gay."

Severus nodded. "I see that working. It's a good argument, at least. I think that sort of theory would apply more to something like _The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_."

"You're _so_ right! I mean, he can't even get off his apartment floor to go to the party he's been invited to!"

"And he thinks _all_ the women there will be unable to understand him, that they're so vapid all they'll do is—"

"Come and go, talking of Michelangelo?" Harry interrupted, smiling.

Severus smirked back at him, sending Harry's senses into a tizzy. "Exactly."

Harry's smile turned shy as he glanced away from Severus' dark eyes, which stared intensely into his own emerald orbs. The entire time they'd been talking, Severus never once looked away. Harry had been convinced that Severus was only doing this to quell Harry's curiosity or to stop all the House Elves from serenading him; but, as Severus' smirk widened at the growing rosiness on Harry's cheeks, Harry had begun to entertain the idea that maybe Severus liked him back.

"Can I ask you something, P—Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"Why do you act the way you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're having a conversation with me over modern and post-modern literature; we've had conversations about several dark spells and the theory behind them; I've watched your classes and your conversations with Miss Granger. What I'm saying is you're not a complete dunderhead. Yet, I find you on your hands and knees in front of my office, hoping to catch me in a mistletoe trap; you cry often, which is thoroughly aggravating because your tears get in my coffee; and you behave like a child around your friends. Why do you act that way?"

The man sighed, knowing that someone would notice eventually. He had hoped that Severus wouldn't question the way he acted in public, but it made him happy all the same. If Severus was interested in knowing what caused his public behavior, then perhaps Severus was thinking of spending more time with Harry in the future. With a shaky smile, the brunet nodded.

"I guess you deserve to know."

"My ears bleed every time a House Elf sings."

"Fine, fine! So you do deserve it!" Harry laughed, his tension easing. "But promise me you won't get mad."

An eyebrow rose, but Severus nodded nonetheless.

"After the war, everyone we loved came back. I don't know how I did it or even what spell I used. I figured it was something super simple like _Alohomora_, or whatever, since I beat Voldemort with a bloody disarming spell. But everyone said that I used parseltongue. So, I can't replicate the spell."

Severus stared intently at Harry, the familiar buzz of _muffliato_ surrounding them. Though his eyes were narrowed in curiosity, wondering how this had anything to do with what he'd asked, the older man never interrupted Harry nor did his attention waver.

"That means….that means I can't bring anybody else back. Everyone who came back, came back. That's all. How do you explain to people why some of the dead came back and not others? How do you explain that Sirius and Remus and Tonks and Fred all came back, but I couldn't bring back Ted Tonks, or Lavender, or Colin, or anyone else who meant something to someone? Or even Hedwig…" Harry lapsed into a contemplative silence. "Even though some people came back, how do you deal with the survivor guilt? Or the time they lost while they were dead? How long was Sirius gone before he suddenly was thrust back into the world of the living? How does a person not go insane at night, wondering if closing their eyes means losing that person again? I…I couldn't deal with everyone being so sad. And then…"

. . .

After a few harrowing months at St. Mungo's, Harry had finally left Severus' side to rally his case to Wizengamot. He'd finally proven Severus was innocent of all charges and, after making sure the staff of healers knew what would happen if Severus was not treated with the upmost respect, Harry left to go spend time with his family—his _entire _family. Harry walked into the Burrow, the fond smile on his lips dying as soon as he entered. Huddled in the sitting room together, the Weasley family sat in silence, clinging to each other. Ginny sat on the floor, her hair matted and dull, clutching Fred and George's knees. Molly sat on Fred's side, Arthur on George's. Ron sat beside Ginny, clutching her shoulder almost painfully, but Ginny gave no indication of noticing. Percy, Charlie, and Bill sat on their parents' sides, holding onto the closest family member. Harry suddenly felt like he was intruding.

The hearth blazed, letting in the rest of Harry's carefully constructed family. Remus, Teddy, and Tonks sat on the floor, holding each other desperately. Teddy looked confused, but noticing the tension in the room, his bright pink hair turned muddy brown and he settled quietly between his parents. Fleur returned with Victoire, perching on the armrest beside Bill; with his hand still holding Percy's, Bill wrapped an arm around his wife and pulled his wife and daughter onto his lap, clutching desperately. Sirius stumbled in, looking as if he'd just left Azkaban, and sat close to Remus, gazing ahead unseeingly, his shocking blue eyes hollowed and tortured. Minerva walked in, her head low—a stark contrast to her normally proud visage, her steps were sluggish and forced. Stoic though her face remained, Minerva McGonagall had finally been broken. She stood silently by the Weasleys. Hermione, who had yet to find her parents, walked in with puffy, red eyes and sat next to Ron, who held her close to him. Neville and Luna sat beside Sirius, holding hands; even Luna's mood was drastically different. Finally, in the very corner of the room, Dobby and Kreacher sat beside each other, quiet and forlorn.

No one spoke a word at Harry's entrance. The somber mood soon became suffocating and Harry took a step back, suddenly eager to retreat. _This _is the end he'd brought about. _This_ melancholy and angst, _this_ fear and paranoia; these people would never live normal lives.

And it was his fault.

Harry let out a whimper and took another step back, jarring the door closed. No one seemed perturbed by the noise, save Hermione. Her large brown eyes, misty and red, finally seemed to focus on Harry.

"Harry?" she questioned lightly. As if it was the trigger word, all eyes were on him. Harry's lungs weren't taking in enough air; he started to experience vertigo under the torrent of their expectant gazes.

"How did it go, Harry?" Hermione asked, saving him from fainting. "Is Professor Snape going to be okay?"

Exhaling deeply, Harry nodded. "Y-Yes. He's been cleared of all charges. He'll be fully healed in about a week and he'll be taking over as Headmaster."

"Snape is?" Arthur asked, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat quickly. "Will he be well enough in time?"

Harry's lips quirked. "You know Snape. Always eager to take points from us Gryffindors."

Ron snorted. "Maybe he's glad he'll be able to expel us finally."

"And miss out on torturing us by having us clean his cauldrons? Doubt it," Hermione muttered.

Harry smiled unsteadily. Something was happening. They were getting out of their despair; though it wasn't even humor and it was completely self-deprecating, something was causing them to talk.

"On the bright side," Harry mumbled, "I did get to sit by and watch them heal Snape."

"How is that a bright side?" Sirius grunted darkly.

"Have you _seen_ that man's body? He's gorgeous."

Slack jaws and wide eyes met Harry's statement and the man flushed under their open stares. Sirius' right eye began to twitch; just as Sirius stood, probably to either kill Harry or kill Severus, a miracle occurred.

For the first time since he'd been revived, Fred laughed. It was a deep, cleansing laugh; the one thing the Weasley family had needed—to know that Fred really _was_ alive in more than just body. Fred's shoulders shook and tears raced down his face as his chortle only grew in volume. George's wide eyes stared unabashedly at his brother.

Finally, Fred managed to hiccup an explanation. "I-Imagine! Harry Potter trying to court Severus Snape! It's like the mouse begging the snake to have sex with it!"

Harry's face flushed a deeper red, but he grinned marvelously when George laughed along with his brother. The tension in the air—the stale tension of days, _of months_, of constant vigilance for a sign of life in a breathing human being—was finally breached.

"You're right! It's like the chicken asking the lion out!"

"Hello, Snape. Don't hex me, but fancy a shag?"

"Dear Snape, I'm in love with your body. Please don't poison me."

"Professor Snape, Professor Snape! I'm at your mercy!"

"I didn't mean cleaning your cauldrons!" Fred finally collapsed onto his brother, laughing helplessly. Hesitantly, the rest of the room followed suit, laughing at the pure impossibility of Harry wanting Snape.

Emboldened by their breakthrough, Harry pouted and stood straight. "But I _do_ like him!"

A stunned silence followed. "A-And I need your help. I mean, he's _Severus Fucking Snape_ and I'm Harry Potter. Savior of the Wizarding World isn't impressive enough for Snape."

Seemingly finding humor in something so abhorrent, Sirius snorted. "No, you'd have to save Mars, Venus, the Sun, and the entire Andromeda Galaxy."

"Probably also have to be a Potion's Master," Hermione giggled.

"And maybe fix your hair," Ginny said seriously, finally letting go of her brothers' knees. "I'm sure he likes wavy hair."

"Oh, maybe get resorted into Slytherin!" Bill piped up.

"Oh, 'arry," Fleur tittered, "Perhaps you will need to, 'ow you say…update your wardrobe?"

Harry pouted. "Et tu, Fleur?"

"Et me, 'arry," she laughed.

"Maybe off me and Sirius for some bonus points," Remus chuckled, his dark humor welcomed with laughs.

"Hey, Harry, I'll pretend to be dead and maybe old Snivellus will sleep with you!" Sirius guffawed.

"Oh, Harry!" Luna said, that dreamlike-tone back in her high, bell-like voice, "Maybe give him some time. I'm sure he has some wrackspurts stuck in his head. He'll only reject you right now."

"As long as you don't ask us to double date," Neville shuddered. "I don't need him criticizing how I date Luna."

"Longbottom, your eating habits are atrocious," Fred stood proudly, imitating the stern Potion's Master.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for sloppy necking, Mr. Longbottom!" George joined soon after.

"Mr. Potter, these flowers are entirely too cheerful. Detention!" Ron pointed is nose as high in the air as he could.

"You will spend detention planting much more useful potions ingredients; if I even whiff a daisy, that'll be another hundred points, Mr. Potter!" Ginny mimicked, earning a round of applause.

"Mr. Potter, if you intend on taking me to dinner, I must insist you only take me at night! Standing in the sun is sure to kill me," Charlie snickered.

"Mr. Potter, your technique is lacking! I suggest you reacquaint yourself on how to perform fellatio! 75 points from Gryffindor!" Tonks cackled, causing Molly to blush a scarlet red and the rest of the room to fall helplessly into another fit of unbridled laughter.

By the end of their propositions on how to get Severus to like Harry, Harry had run out of synonyms for the word "laugh". He'd never been so happy to have the English language fail him.

. . .

By the end of Harry's story, his eyes were fixated on his folded hands. He was scared to look into the eyes of Severus and see scorn and hatred there. He knew he had to continue, but to do so might only further dig his own grave.

"S-So, it kind of became a joke. I figured if I was just…really showy and really obvious with how much I wanted you, it would keep entertaining them. It really got us all out of that funk and depression; you don't know how stifling it was in the Burrow, Severus. It hurt to be in there. But, that joke about dating you…I don't know why it worked. Maybe because you being alive and kicking and moving on with life sort of helped everyone else realize they had to do the same…that they were letting life pass them by, even though they'd been given a second chance at it, and a man like you was grasping at every opportunity to live; a man like you recovered a full seven months before the predicted date of recovery, rebuilt the school practically by yourself, and opened it up a day late. You were in a hospital bed planning how to take points from Gryffindor House and they were still stuck back in time, when people who are now here were dead. I…I don't really understand, but maybe my moving on and liking a person who was also moving on prompted everyone to start really living. Maybe."

Finally, Harry looked up, wincing in apprehension. What he saw in those dark pools startled him, but not as much as the sound coming out of Severus' mouth.

He'd only heard it a few times before now, but never this close. Severus Snape was laughing; not his low-key laugh, nor his sadistic chuckle. He was full-blown laughing, as hard as Fred had laughed that fateful day, doubled over helplessly and clutching his stomach. His cheeks glowed with an alluring red blush, his black eyes staring at Harry and full of mirth, though they struggled to stay open.

"S-Severus?" Harry finally prodded, smiling hesitantly.

"I-I probably _would've_ taken points away if you couldn't even do a simple blow-job!" the man replied, his hiccupping laughs quickly addicting Harry.

"Maybe you can teach me," Harry suggested, edging closer to the older wizard.

Finally regaining his composure and drawing himself up to his full sitting height, Severus smirked deviously at Harry, making shivers rock the brunet's whole body.

"You're going to learn more than that, Mr. Potter. I'll go get the tab."

Harry couldn't help being cheeky. "Even though it's the first date?"

Severus looked over his shoulder as he stood, his sly smile widening. "And deal with Dobby singing _I Want To Sex You Up_? Let's just skip steps 3 through 5, Harry."

* * *

Sirius smiled as he exited the floo, taking in the sitting room with a shake of his head. Apparently, everyone had a late night.

Bottles and bottles, all empty, of hard liquor were strewn across the floor. Various game consoles and controllers crowded the TV. The boys had apparently all slept in the living room, lying about in uncomfortable and odd positions on the couches and floor; Sirius figured the girls had taken the room. Checking the boys, and chancing a peek at the girls, to make sure everyone was okay, Sirius realized that Harry was not among the young adults. Frowning, he raised a brow and sat in Harry's study, wondering where his godson could have gone. Suddenly, his question was answered as Harry stepped into his rooms, singing loudly and very off-key. His guests moaned pitifully while Sirius chuckled, walking back into the sitting room.

"Fuck you, Wonder Boy," Draco griped, "Why aren't you more considerate?"

"Why did you guys clean out my liquor cabinet?" Harry retorted.

"It's always about you, Harry," Ron muttered, his head still propped on Neville's stomach.

Harry rolled his eyes and welcomed his godfather with a hug. "Sirius! What brings you here?"

"Just a quick social visit," Sirius smiled. "Where were you? Getting breakfast?"

Harry grinned widely. "Nope. I just came back from a date."

"Just now?" Draco whispered, then shot up in surprise. A moment later, the blond regretted his actions and fell over on the floor, whimpering and cursing Harry. Sirius raised a brow at the Slytherin's odd behavior, then turned to Harry.

"Why is he so interested in your date? Wait…_no_," Sirius whispered, his face going pale.

Unperturbed, Harry nodded happily. "_Yes_."

"S-Snivellus…and you?"

"Yeeesss."

"And you're just getting back _now_?" Sirius asked again, eye twitching.

"Oh my god, you banged my godfather, you fucking slut!" Draco yelled, then fell right back over, grasping his head. "You actually had sex with him on the first date!? How did you manage that!?"

Harry laughed triumphantly, the occupants of the room groaning miserably—with the exception of Sirius, whose face was quickly turning green—"He and I reached an understanding. I'm bad at fellatio and he decided to…_teach _me."

"Cheers for _The Professor_!" the twins raised empty glasses into the air, laughing weakly.

"We should celebrate with a drink!" Ron said, and Neville's face turned green too.

Finally, an irate Ginny opened the door, yelling. "Will you arseholes kindly _shut the f—_Harry? Did you just get back?"

Harry nodded excitedly.

"Oh, my god! You slut!" Ginny cheered, running over and hugging Harry.

"When did slut become a compliment?" Sirius asked, looking around helplessly. "And why is everyone okay with you sleeping with Snivellus all of a sudden!?"

"We've always been okay with it," Hermione yawned, interjecting helpfully. "Can we all get cleaned up? Breakfast starts in thirty minutes and I'm sure Headmaster Snape would _love_ to know why half his teaching staff didn't show up to the first weekend of breakfast with the students."

The group collective groaned, hauling themselves up at a slow and pathetic pace. Hermione's eyebrow raised, in a beautiful imitation of Severus that caused Harry to smile stupidly, and she pointed her wand at her friends, sending multiple stinging hexes to their asses.

"Ow!"

"What the fuck, 'Mione!?"

"Merlin!"

"Goddammit!"

"Fuck, 'Mione!"

"The Nargles hate you, Hermione!"

"Fine, we're moving!"

Hermione smirked and grabbed her own robes, following the grumbling group out after kissing Harry on the cheek and hugging Sirius. "See you at breakfast," she chirped as she left.

Ginny, Ron, and the twins groaned and collected their things, departing with hugs and kisses to Harry and Sirius, leaving through the floo back to their own homes.

Finally left alone, Sirius faced Harry again. "You two really had sex?"

"Well," Harry blushed, "Not sex-sex. Just, like, oral sex and stuff. But we didn't go all the way."

Sirius blanched. "Please stop putting images in my head."

Harry laughed. "Sorry, Sirius. But, it really was a fantastic night."

"Does…does he make you happy?"

"More than anything."

Sirius sighed morosely, petulantly kicking the side of the couch lightly. "…I guess I can stand it. So long as he doesn't hurt you. But I'm not going to die just so you can get brownie points!"

Harry grinned again. "I think he's content with my improving my technique. I earned Gryffindor 50 points last night for a…witty tongue."

"You're not even a stu….Aw, _sick!_ Harry, Merlin dammit, could you _not_ poison my mind! Augh! _The images!_"

* * *

OKAY. We're still developing here.

Let's see. A lot of you review with anonymous names or whatever, so here are the replies:

Review:  
My only complaint is about the reference to Sindel...Seriously, would a boy (Draco) who was raised entirely in the wizarding world and knew next to nothing about muggles know that name? For that matter, even if Harry knew it, which would be feasible, when would it have ever come up in a conversation in the wizarding world? I get the song Dobby sings, since Harry could actually know it, but really THINK about things which would be referenced and by whom. Neither Ron nor Draco would actually know Mortal Kombat, let alone a particular character.

Answer:  
I totally get it. There are going to be some things in this story that are not going to be explained for some time. It's the way I work. As you see, Draco's intimate knowledge of MK is explained, as is Harry's OOC silliness. Furthermore, it was a subtle way of me to show how accepting Draco has become of Muggle culture, though it clearly fell flat on its face. Just give it time. However, don't stop pointing out inconsistencies—there are times that I make mistakes, after all. Thanks for the review~

Review (Lou):  
This is really funny. I'm a huge Snarry shipper, but I'm way more into the Hermione/Draco aspect of this story...especially since your harry is a big whiny wanker. I wouldn't expect Severus to want someone so immature. So, if your [sic] going for silly, it's perfect. ;)

Answer:  
Again, it takes me time to develop my characters. It is my modus operandi; everyone is silly at first, but their characters show as the story develops. I'm not an angst writer or a drama writer. I write (hopefully) humorous stories, so their characters (and the fact that they're not static, but dynamic, characters) will take time to develop. I hope you keep reading and see that.

Review:  
The most OOC story I have ever read. Thank you!

Answer:  
You're welcome!

And, finally, Perpetual Dreams? I love your reviews. Keep 'em coming, love. 3 Thanks to everyone who reviewed.


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